


The Abrasax Diaries

by Apollonius88



Series: The Abrasax Diaries [1]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3625896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apollonius88/pseuds/Apollonius88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diaries, letters, dispatches, sheaves and more...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I will try something completely boisterous: a “splice” (yeah) combining elements of different epistolary novels: Les Liaisons dangereuses by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, The Sorrows of Young Werther by J. W. von Goethe, a bit of Dracula... mixed up with a lot of steampunk, some Jerry Pournelle, some space-queerness, space-feminism and space-marxism…  
> The story will be centred loosely around Balem, Jupiter and Caine. There will be letters and diary-entries by the three Abrasax siblings and Jupiter Jones. But also Space-Werewolf-Angel, Stinger Apini, Chicancery Night, Famulus and others will have their corner. And expect some bureaucratic sheaves too. Hope you enjoy!

**Mr. Chicancery Night, Esq., Chief Operation Officer of Abrasax Industries, Jupiter subsidiary,**

**to Ms. Varia Strix, Chief Public Relations Officer of Abrasax Industries, Ouros Headquarters**

**Jupiter Refinery XX.XX.19XX**

**Classified: confidential**

Dear Ms. Strix, dearest Varia

I hope you are good, my friend. We haven’t seen for such a long time. Me, poor humble rat-splice, confined here for a solitary task, buried under layers and layers of toxic hurricanes, alone with cohorts of brutish Sargorns (their new captain, Mr. Tskalikin, isn’t very entertaining) and hyperactive keepers. Here in Jupiter I miss our chats which we had in our common past… I miss our glorious capital Ouros, and the offices of our beloved Lord Balem. After the euphoria of my most gracious promotion by our Lord Balem following the most tragic and sudden death of our Sovereign I feel, I must confess, aloof of all civilization. And aloof especially of your company, my dearest friend, and in general of the company of the fair sex. The solacement I find here in Jupiter is of very artificial and insipid manner...!

But enough of my discomfort.

As you asked me I’m keeping you informed of the actual state of our most revered Liege Lord Balem. As you and I were apprehending, it deteriorated with the approaching of the unjoyous anniversary.

Three weeks ago his standard issue Abrasax temper started to become even more and more irascible. When discussing the imminent harvesting of Zalintyre I had to mention that the projections of the return on investment didn’t match the previous ones (you remember, we had some issues with Zalintyre’s humans surprisingly achieving almost FTL-technology) he just stared at me, whispered something that I couldn’t grasp (it’s all my fault, you know how undiscerning I can be, worthless rat that I am) and then he yelled and threw the holographic projector at me. It hit me on my forehead and I started to bleed copiously, besmearing the floor of the throne hall, which made his Lordship even more irate. At this moment I was doubtful about my survival. Fortunately our Lord tempered justice with mercy and let me go.

A week later there was another incident, again having its occasion on the additional costs of the keeper’s task force we had to deploy to Zalintyre to prevent the humans to develop the FTL-technology. I must confess that the calculations we had made about the achievement of ripeness of Zalentyre were imprecise and that the legal implication of the achievement of the FTL-status, which should be registered at the Commonwealth Ministry and the other competent agencies on Ouros, could have jeopardized up to 20% of the estimated net profit. But with the deployment of additional keepers I managed to bypass the unwanted attention of the Aegis and the Marshalls… while minimizing the cost at around 0,9% of the budgetary investment. Nevertheless Lord Balem informed me that should this problem arise again in the wake of another planet’s harvest, I would answer of it personally... You can imagine, my dearest friend, which coldness strangled in this very moment my excitable little heart!

The last three days our Liege has disappeared in his chambers. He is not to be disturbed. Only two androids are allowed to attend to his basic royal needs.

You asked me to keep you discretely informed about the implications for his ability to communicate with the public: in this state his Lordship is not able to attend any meeting with external visibility. Please postpone all public appearances and meetings of Lord Balem with customers, suppliers and public stakeholders of Abrasax Industries. I will keep you discretely informed about the state of your Liege Lord.

I hope to be able to convince his Lordship to accept medical and psychological attendance. Although I doubt he will accept any treatment. He even precluded any RegeneX-treatment, although his life cycle is coming, as you know, in a precarious stage.

I will continue to brief you exclusively with letters, as agreed, under the utmost secrecy. As we all know, the economic welfare of Abrasax Industries depends of it… but, alas, also our own personal safety and well-being.

Yours sincerely,

Chicancery Night, Esq.

 

**Balem Abrasax**

**Personal Royal Diary**

**Code level 1**

**Jupiter Refinery XX.XX.19XX**

I can’t think of anything other than her. I see her when I close my eyes. I’m starting now to see her when my eyes are open. She is everywhere, impressed on everything, superposing reality. I must remember, she is not real. Not anymore. She is dead. My mother is dead. Disintegrated. Why do I then see her. Her face.

The worst is the blood. This colour red, so full of life. The very moment she died, everything was so red, so colourful. I’ve never seen something so, so red. My mother.

I’m here in my chambers. Alone. I suffocate. I can’t breathe. She is everywhere, her blood.

Outside the splices wait. Wait for a word, a sign, a command. I wish there would be some humans, like she was. I am a human too. Sometimes I forget. Then I don’t know who or what I am.

What's happened to me. I have been changed into a monstrous thing.

It’s her fault. She made me do it. She begged me to do it.

 

**Kalique Abrasax**

**Personal Royal Diary**

**Code level 1**

**Alcazar, Cerise XX.XX.19XX**

Mother died on this day, thousands of years ago. I decided not to count them. But I can’t ignore this damned day of death. Here I am “celebrating” it. It was the day of my freedom, after all. Finally able to do what I want. Make my own decisions. Take my business in my own hands.

Mother really became whimsical. All her religious blabber. “Human life is sacred. Human genes are sacred.” What was her favourite quote at the end? “We are not allowed to destroy human lives to keep our own life.” I remember how she wanted to have “a word” on theological issues about Recurrences and I answered: "You may have as many words as you please,—only I can't stay to hear them." I was disrespectful, but she was exasperating.

At the end mother was utterly deranged. She said splices where abominations. I remember a dinner with one of the primaries of the House of Krios (was it Aristo? I don’t remember. I should send a letter for the next birthday of the Krios’ Matriarch, that will tighten our bonds. I should try to get some profitable supply contracts…). Mother started to talk about the purity of human genes and that humans should stop genetic engineering… She said creating splices was blasphemy. She said this in the presence of a scion of Krios – the biggest owner of splice-factories in the universe!

I felt so ashamed. She was becoming an embarrassment. And a danger to the families’ businesses.

In the last years of her life mother utilised only androids. And extremely overpaid, overqualified humans. She discharged all the splices or sold them. Some of the out-of-work splices died of hunger… What a waste of money… what a dissipation of talents, of assets.

She died in the right moment… before she could do any harm to Abrasax Industries or the legal estate.

Poor mother. Not fit for life any more. Only fit for death. May she rest in peace, forever.

 

**Titus Abrasax**

**Personal Royal Diary**

**Code level 1**

**Abrasax Clipper D-Gamma-9, Right ascension 00h 42m 44.3s/Declination +41° 16** **′** **9** **″** **, XX.XX.19XX**

Her Death. Today. Again. Thought of her this morning, then got distracted. Now thinking of her again. Miss her. Feel void. Why? Must there always be an answer?

Tonight comes my new assistant, the deer splice. Looking forward, I hope she is as resourceful as promised. I will get drunk, probably.

 

**Legion’s Administration Department: Delta**

**Sheave 5659483737629_DIRWCL_485729; XX.XX.19XX**

Sector 326343-24-Z

Brigade 765

Battalion 46

Recruit Registration Form

Name: Caine Wise

Age: 16

Splice breed: Lycantant

Genetic engineered potential: tracking, hunting

Defects (physical): codes 3; 67; 89

Defects (psychological): codes 79; 179

Projected expectation of life: 5 years

RegenX-application-clearence: Negative

Responsible for Drill: Lance Corporal Fav Aculeus

 

**Personal Log**

**Fav Aculeus**

I got this new kid with me, last week. Some Lycantant. A runt for this kind of splice. My own height and about as heavy as me. He must have been the joke of his litter. The splicer was happy to get rid of him. And now I’m training the little bastard. I will have to break him up first.


	2. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's getting a bit messy and violent here. Caine especially... hm, poor Caine :( Felt really bad when I wrote it.

 

**Personal Log**

**Fav Aculeus**

**[XX.XX.19XX]**

Caine Wise is a complete misfit, awkward, angry, already a complete outsider in the team. Screwed up every training mission he was in. Nobody wants to team up with him anymore. Of course. Wise smells of death. If this recruit survives training he will be killed on his first mission by the enemy. He is a jinx. You can smell it.

After two weeks I thought it was time to break him. Humble the kid.

The best way to show those Lycantant-bastards who their alpha male is: Rape. Good, old-fashioned rape. Unless they like being fucked, then it’s more complicated. But with this cripple Caine Wise I was immediately sure: This one is not going to like it. He likes nothing. There is a lack of sexuality in this one. At this age the recruits play all the time with themselves and with their comrades, exploring their sexuality. Here, too, the little freak remains alone. No interaction. No petting. No fucking around. The dormitory’s Chamber Presence was keeping me updated.

So he was a perfect victim. A hard fuck would break him, make him tame.

I did it already hundreds of times, so I know how it works. I have my routine.

I waited for a slow pulse. Analysed with the Chamber Presence his eye movements and his muscle tones. When his sleep was deepest I went to him, made him immobile with floating chains and paralyzed his speech musculature with a targeted beam. The little puppy could only grunt. I almost laughed out loud.

Then I pushed him, helplessly floating as he was, to my hive. And there the fun began.

First of all I dematerialized his clothes with a beam. The pup was sweating like hell. All glistening. He is small for a Lycantant, only 6 ft. something. But well build. Not as monstrous as the other Lycantants. More good-looking like a bee splice. All his muscles were tense, fighting against the antigravity-chains around his wrists and ankles. Completely futile. But the runt continued to resist, tried to move, to wriggle. The blue light of the antigravity-chains made him look good, every muscle silhouetted against the darkness. I stood there and watched, I don’t know how long.

I must confess I started to feel attracted to the pup. It wasn’t a mere task fulfilment. I really wanted to fuck him. Fuck him senseless. Kiss him. Hurt him.

When I started to play with his ass I was myself drenched in sweat. My uniform started to ventilate, to cool me down. I took a truncheon and started to probe his asshole. The moment he sensed the hard, cold material on his hole, he tensed. Stopped moving. Just tensed. And gave another grunt. He knew what was coming.

I used some spit to facilitate the task. Well it didn’t help much I guess. When the tip of the truncheon passed his sphincter (had to give a hard push) he was groaning so loudly it was almost a scream – in spite of his paralyzed vocal cords. I had to use some lubricant to smooth out some of the friction in his ass… his ass was so tight, unbelievable he could bear the truncheon. But he did. At the end I penetrated him rhythmically again and again deeply with the thick stick. The friction was almost all gone – thanks to the lubricant. And thanks to the blood… the pup was bleeding quite a bit at the end. That’s why I didn’t fuck him. To messy down there. Decided to wait for one the next times. When the hole is stretched and trained.

The runt was sweating so strongly he formed a puddle of liquid on the floor. Mixed with blood. And he pissed himself too. I had my Chamber Presence de-atomize the filth and sterilize my hive.

I stopped the bleeding with some spray and slid the pup back to his bed. Nobody noticed. Or at least nobody was so stupid to show. When I released him from the antigravitational bonds he grunted and then he was absolutely still. After I normalized his vocals cords with the beam he didn’t say anything. I even thought he might be unconscious, but he wasn’t, I had his bio-data displayed on my eye-implant. Was probably just the shock.

After that I erased the data concerning the pup and my little game form the Chamber Presence’s memory. I know my boss Stinger Apini wouldn’t appreciate my educational method. Better to keep it private.

The next day the pup couldn’t walk of course. And couldn’t eat either. He tried but he vomited the second he took the first bite of his breakfast. The Medical Sim didn’t ask too much questions, just gave him something for the sickness. I allowed the poor fucker to stay at bed. He kept his eyes staring at the ground. He was shaking violently and had strong fever. Normal after the first encounter with the truncheon.

Well I think I did good. When I visited the pup the third time after a couple of weeks, he took the truncheon without bleeding. And the next morning he ate his breakfast and did his training like everyone else. Just a little shiver remains, every time he sees me or senses my scent.

 

**Titus Abrasax**

**Personal Royal Diary**

**Code level 1**

**[Abrasax Clipper D-Gamma-9, Planet Cerise/in orbit, XX.XX.19XX]**

The boredom grows stronger every day. I try to remain focused. I try to work. Every morning, when my Chamber Presence wakes me up and tells me all the next appointments, accurately set up by Famulus, I would like to die. For an instant. Yes. To be no more. What a relief.

Then (always) my Chamber Presence, bitch, notes that something is wrong. Gods know how. My breath perhaps. Or she reads my fucking mind waves. The first times she started to chat. Said pleasantries. After a couple of days she offered moodlifter, drugs. After a couple of weeks cerebral conditioning. What an asshole. I accepted the drugs. They help. Also the wine helps. Sometimes.

Famulus is as resourceful as promised. She can cope with the myriads of advocates, agents and senior executive managers that seem to float around me. She protects me from their questions, their stupid needs, their smirks. Of course, it doesn’t always work with the humans. Those fucking assholes think they can coax a splice like Famulus. But after a while she started to keep them all in check. Even the humans.

Together with Famulus and my private advocate I’m planning my legacy. I started to think about the future when I started to think of my death.

Famulus said something funny (or rather cheeky) when I said I wanted an heir. And her eyes sparkled. I like the sparkles in her eyes. She is the only one who dares to mock me. Yes, she mocks me. She was informed by the Chamber Presence of my “matutinal fatigue”. And of the drugs. But no pity, no commiseration. Not Famulus. Just her eyes, full of light, mocking me.

I like this splice.

 

**His Royal Highness**

**Lord Aristo Krios, First Primary Heir of the House of Krios,**

**To**

**Her Royal Highness**

**Lady Kalique Abrasax, Second Primary Heir of the House of Abrasax**

**Classified: private/confidential**

**[Orous, XX.XX.19XX]**

Your Highness

Before I deliver myself to your mercy, my Ladyship, I first beg for your indulgence. I feel that by declaring my feelings I could bless you. So excuse this most intrusive letter (I could never talk to you by FTL hologram, I don’t have the courage, not yet, my Ladyship).

When I saw last week your regal presence you could see by my looks, my embarrassment, my behavior and even my silence how deeply impressed I was by your intelligence, your beauty and your acumen. All the light that emanated from you made my mind weak and I must have been the most boring, speechless person in the dining room.

But my feelings are now burning like a supernova, pure as a star’s hydrogen core. My soul is pure as yours, I assure you. Would it be a crime to ask to be able to enjoy your charming talents, your enchanting graces once again? But will you give me a chance? Another one, my dearest Lady? This time just the two of us?

Without being guilty I am unhappy. This is the fate that awaits me, if you refuse to accept my admiration. I saw you; and the rest of my life fled away from me, and my happiness is gone.

Say a word, and my happiness will return, become perfect, eternal. But, before you decide, consider that a word can also be my misfortune. So be the arbiter of my destiny. Because of you I will be eternally happy or unhappy.

I will end as I began, I implore your indulgence. I beg you to answer me. I dare. To refuse would leave me to believe that you are offended, and my heart would perish knowing my crime.

Eternally yours,

Aristo


End file.
